


3 AM Crisis

by flowersheep



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 14:05:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4182675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersheep/pseuds/flowersheep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this prompt: “she wont stop crying it’s almost sunrise please call grandpa for help”</p>
            </blockquote>





	3 AM Crisis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Val_Creative](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/gifts).



> Well, here it is, my contribution to the BBC Merlin Mpreg Father's Day Exchange. Hope you like it!

“We have to call _someone_ ,” Arthur said over the wailing, desperation clear in his voice. Merlin didn’t know how long it’d been since they were woken by their unhappy daughter, but he could hear birds outside and had just noticed the light starting to come through the blinds. They’d tried everything. Merlin tried to feed her but all it got him was snot and tears all over his chest. Arthur checked her diaper, but it wasn’t dirty nor were there any signs of another diaper rash. He changed it anyway, but that just resulted in the baby powder being knocked off the table and spilling all over the carpet. They’d dug up every single one of her toys and put them one by one in her crib, warmed a blanket up in the dryer, sang lullabies, rocked her, and Arthur had even tried taking her for a short trip in the car, but the wailing continued.

“Did we check her temperature?” Merlin asked. He honestly couldn’t remember.

“We did,” Arthur said. “It’s normal.” He was holding their daughter slightly away from him, still being careful to support her properly, but clearly tired of holding a screaming baby. Merlin wasn’t taking her if he didn’t have to. “Merlin, we really need to call someone for help.”

“I don’t want to,” Merlin groaned. “I hate this whole competitive grandpa thing they’ve got going on. It’s like they're five years old or something.”

“Well your mum’s out of town and Morgana will actually murder us if we wake her up,” Arthur reminded him. “We don’t really have a choice. Unless you like the screaming.”

“Fuck no.” Merlin scrubbed his hands over his face, glancing at their baby once more. “Alright, fine. We’ll call. Which one though?”

“Shit, I don’t know.”

They should probably stop swearing, Merlin thought, but the sun was rising, Arthur had a meeting in a few hours, and he really just wanted to go back to bed. “Which one do you think will gloat less?”

“Balinor,” Arthur said immediately. Then he frowned. “Well, actually, maybe not in this case.” In general, Merlin’s father was a pretty calm, go with the flow kind of person. Until it came to attempting to out grandfather Uther. Merlin knew his dad possessed a competitive streak, but he’d never realized how intense it could get until he’d seen Balinor and Uther arguing over who was better suited to babysit their new grandchild: Balinor and his first hand experience of having actually raised his own child or Uther and his up-to-date childcare classes and pediatric CPR qualifications. If Merlin had to guess, he suspected his dad felt a bit slighted in the grandfather duties department. Balinor had been one hundred percent supportive of their decision to keep and raise their baby from the beginning. Uther, on the other hand, had actually thrown a bit of a fit when Arthur had first told him Merlin was having his baby and hadn’t really jumped on the bandwagon until it became painfully clear that Arthur wasn’t going to dump his pregnant boyfriend just because daddy told him to. Whatever the reason, Merlin was starting to think he should probably sit his dad down for a nice long talk about how utterly childish and ridiculous his recent behavior was.

“Well let’s be honest,” Merlin said. “If we look at it purely in terms of real experience, you were raised by a nanny and I was raised by a stay at home father.”

“Father’s taken childcare classes,” Arthur pointed out.

“And yet he still gave our baby a diaper rash,” Merlin reminded him. He sighed. “Look, I appreciate the effort Uther puts into being a decent grandfather, I really do, but I think this situation calls for more hands on experience than whatever Uther learned in his classes. As you know, handling a doll is a lot different than handling an actual baby.”

“Yeah,” Arthur agreed. “We’ll call Balinor, then. What should we give Father in return then? I imagine he'll be a bit put out that we didn't call him-"

“We’re not _giving_ him anything!” Merlin interrupted. “Jesus, Arthur, our baby is not a toy to be passed back and forth between our fathers!”

“Right, sorry, I didn’t mean that,” Arthur said, grimacing. “I just…”

“Need more sleep. Yeah, I get it. Try rocking her again. She must be getting tired.” Merlin went back to their bedroom to retrieve his mobile, hitting his dad’s speed dial. It rang through to voicemail so he hung up and tried again. This time it was picked up on the second ring.

“What? What time is it?” Balinor asked, sounding half asleep.

Merlin wasn’t sure what he’d meant to say, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t the wobbly, “Dad, my baby won’t stop crying,” that came out.

“Won’t stop crying?” Balinor sounded more awake now.

“Arthur and I don’t know what to do,” Merlin continued. “We’ve tried everything we can think of.”

“No fever? Clean diaper? Not hungry?”

“No fever. Her diaper was clean, but we changed it anyway and there’s no sign of another rash.” Merlin bit his lip. “She might be hungry,” he said in a small voice. “I tried to feed her when we first got up, but I couldn’t. I don’t know if she wasn’t hungry or if she’s just too upset to nurse, but I couldn’t get her to-” He cut himself off, horrified to realize he was about to start crying. Merlin had always sworn he’d never get upset about nursing. It was a ridiculous standard to measure your parenting by. There were all kinds of reasons for why a parent would have trouble nursing their baby and not once did any article or book Merlin read on it mention shit parenting as a reason. Yet here he was, despairing over one bad nursing experience despite three months of previous evidence attesting to the fact that he was more than capable of it when his child wasn’t too busy screaming her little heart out.

“Give it another try,” Balinor said, “but with a different position.”

Merlin looked at the door, not exactly eager to go back to the nursery. He didn’t really have a choice though. “Alright.” He didn’t hang up as he dragged himself back across the hall. Arthur was in the rocking chair, staring blankly at the wall.

“Please tell me you have a solution,” he begged.

“I have something to try,” Merlin said because he had no idea if switching up how he nursed his baby would do anything, but it was worth a shot. “Switch with me.” Handing over his mobile, Merlin carefully took the baby in his arms and sat in the rocking chair. With practiced efficiency Merlin moved his t-shirt up out of the way before setting his baby upright on his leg. He thought he remembered a nurse calling it a koala hold. God, now he wanted to buy a koala suit for their baby. He needed sleep.

“Come on,” Merlin muttered. He guided her head towards his chest, but nothing happened. She wasn’t even trying to latch on, just sat there with her face pressed against his skin and cried. Frustration welled up. “Why won’t she just fucking do it?” In a flash, Arthur was kneeling in front of him, one hand keeping the mobile against his ear and the other catching Merlin’s hand, rubbing little circles on the back of it with his thumb.

“We’ll trying something else then,” he said quickly. “Like…” There was a pause as he listened to whatever Balinor was saying. “Okay, yeah. I’m gonna try a tummy rub, alright? Have we got any massage oil?”

“In the ensuite probably,” Merlin said.

“Okay. I’ll be right back.” Before he left, Arthur traded Merlin’s phone for their still fussing baby.

“How’re you doing?” Balinor asked.

“Not well,” Merlin admitted. “I hate this.”

“Just close your eyes and take a few deep breaths.”

Merlin did. He was on the verge of dozing off when the muffled crying gained volume again, heralding Arthur’s return. Merlin watched as his husband gently laid their baby out on her favorite blanket on the floor, poured a bit of oil on his hands to warm it, and started rubbing little circles on her stomach.

“So about this whole grandpa competition,” Merlin found himself saying, mostly because if he just sat there and listened to his baby crying he was quite possibly going to have a breakdown.

“The _what_?” Balinor sounded utterly baffled.

“It’s this weird thing you and Uther have going where you, like, try to prove which of you is the better grandpa,” Merlin explained. He heard Arthur snort. 

There was silence on the other end of the line for a long moment. Then, “Alright. What about it?”

“Can you guys not? I mean it was kind of funny at first, but I am currently sitting in the nursery at god only fucking knows what time in the morning as the sun climbs ever higher in the sky, watching my husband give our baby a tummy rub because she won’t stop crying and I honestly have run out of patience for it. So again, can you not?”

“I’ll work on it,” Balinor promised.

“Great. And don’t worry, Uther’s getting a talk about it as well. Especially since he’s the one who gave my baby a diaper rash last month.”

“It’s not working,” Arthur spoke up, tone a mix of apologetic and distressed. So far he was doing a better job of keeping his calm than Merlin, but there were cracks in the fortress. “Please tell me there’s something else we can do.”

Merlin rubbed his eyes and simply asked, “Dad?”

“Does she like baths?”

“Not particularly.”

“Have you tried a car ride yet?”

“Arthur did that just before I called.” Merlin felt swamped by his despair. He stared at his baby and barely noticed it when he whispered, “She’s never going to stop.”

“ _Merlin_ ,” Balinor said firmly. Merlin startled and blinked.

“It’s been _hours_ ,” he said, desperate. “Hours, dad! And she’s still crying!” Arthur was looking at him with concern, still sitting on the floor while their daughter screamed and flailed on her blanket.

“Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do,” Balinor said, calm and confident. “You’re going to take a deep breath and remind yourself that this is not a reflection of you as a parent. You’ve done nothing wrong. You’re a great parent Merlin, alright? Say it.”

“I’m a great parent,” Merlin mumbled. Arthur smiled encouragingly and gave him a thumbs up. Merlin raised two fingers at him.

“That’ll do,” Balinor said. “Next, if you’re feeling up to it and _only_ if you’re feeling up to it, fill a hot water bottle with lukewarm water, wrap it in a towel, then lie down and put it on your stomach and lay your baby on the water bottle.”

“And that’ll help?” Merlin asked.

“It might.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Then you’re going to put her back in her crib and walk away-”

“Just walk away and leave my crying baby all on her own,” Merlin said, a bit heated.

“Yes,” Balinor said. “You’re tired and frustrated, meaning you’re in a very poor mood to deal with a baby. At this point it’s much better to just walk away and take care of yourself. Arthur, too.”

“But what if something happens?” Merlin asked. He felt torn between relief at the idea of getting the fuck away from his baby and fear that something would happen to her while he was off being selfish.

“That’s exactly why I’m getting in my car at this very moment to drive to your house,” Balinor said.

“You don’t have to do that,” Merlin protested.

“Lukewarm water bottle,” Balinor reminded him. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He hung up. Merlin stared at his mobile.

“What did he say?” Arthur asked.

Merlin set his mobile on the floor and got up. “He’s on his way. Bring her downstairs.”

“Why? What are we doing now?” As he spoke Arthur picked their baby up off the floor and followed Merlin out of the nursery.

“I’m going to get a hot water bottle, fill it with lukewarm water, and try laying her on it,” Merlin said. And he would do it himself. He wasn’t quite sure why he wanted to do it instead of asking Arthur. He was at the end of his rope. Odds were, this wouldn’t do anything to soothe his distressed baby any more than all the other things they’d tried and he’d just end up feeling like a failure again, but Merlin wasn’t of a mind to question his own decisions right now. He was going to lie on the fucking couch with a fucking water bottle between himself and his baby and fight anyone who tried to stop him.

“And this is going to work?”

“I have no idea, but I’ll try anything.” Merlin didn’t have the energy to go back upstairs to the master bedroom and their comfortable bed. The couch would do. And maybe when they’d had some sleep they could discuss moving into a one story house. Stairs weren’t worth it. “Can you bring a towel?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Pale morning sunlight slanted across the living room through a gap in the curtains. A door slammed across the street followed by the sound of a car starting. God, that was their neighbor heading off to work. That meant it was around six, two hours before Arthur usually got up to get ready to leave for the office. Merlin chose to ignore it and got himself settled on the couch, checking the temperature of the water bottle one last time before gesturing for Arthur to hand their daughter over. For a moment, for one blessed moment as Merlin got her settled on the water bottle, there was quiet.

“It’s working,” Merlin breathed.

“Peace at last,” Arthur whispered, looking a bit like he may start crying himself. Quietly, Merlin hoped. He closed his eyes, relieved, and that was when he heard his daughter make a discontented noise.

“No,” Merlin groaned. “No, please don’t-”

The screaming began again with renewed determination. Apparently their baby had decided she didn’t care for being on her stomach on a water bottle filled with lukewarm water.

“I’ve made an executive decision,” Merlin said.

Arthur sat down beside the couch, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “What?”

“We’re not having another baby. Ever.”

“No arguments here.”

They lapsed into silence.

“Do you think something’s really wrong with her?” Merlin asked some time later. He hadn’t moved, except to shove the water bottle to the floor, still lying on the couch with his daughter cradled against his chest. Arthur was slumped beside him, his hair just tickling Merlin’s ear. He’d been staring at the same patch of carpet for the past ten minutes while Merlin silently willed himself not to have a breakdown, but he blinked and looked up at Merlin’s question.

“Huh?”

“I know she doesn’t have a fever,” Merlin said. “But this is unusual. What if she’s really sick? We should take her to see a doctor.”

“It’s probably just colic,” Arthur mumbled.

“This isn’t colic. She’s never done this before. Colic shows up a few weeks after birth and would be starting to taper off by now, but this isn’t normal for her. What if she’s really sick and we’ve just been doing stupid things like giving her tummy rubs and singing stupid songs and she ends up dying because we didn’t take her to the stupid A&E?”

“Merlin,” Arthur said, sitting up straighter, alarmed. He placed his hand over Merlin’s where it lay on their baby’s back. “Everything will be fine. There’s no fever, no strange bodily fluids, she’s breathing fine, even with all the screaming. Obviously, we’ll schedule an appointment for a checkup as soon as possible, but I don’t think there’s any reason to panic. Whatever she’s upset about we’ve done everything we can for now. The best thing to do is wait for your dad to show up, hand her over, and get some sleep.” Right on cue they heard a car pull up in their driveway. Arthur gave his hand a reassuring squeeze before getting up to go let Balinor in. Merlin stared resolutely at the ceiling, listening absently to their quiet conversation. The words were too soft for him to make out or maybe he was just too tired.

“Merlin?”

He blinked and found himself staring up at his dad. “She didn’t like the water bottle very much,” Merlin mumbled.

“Arthur said as much. Here.” Balinor gently pushed Merlin’s hands away from his baby and lifted her up. “Get some sleep. I’ll handle her for a while.” Merlin meant to say something along the lines of _yes, please take her, thank you so much_ but all he managed was a garbled string of syllables that got him a pat on the head. He barely even noticed when his eyes fell shut, but he did notice when his daughter’s cries lessened in volume as she was taken back upstairs by her grandfather.

“We should go to bed,” Arthur murmured, even as he wedged himself onto the couch beside Merlin.

“‘m not moving,” Merlin said. He rolled onto his side and buried his face in Arthur’s neck. He felt something soft being drawn over them, probably the afghan on the back of the couch.

“Mm, me neither,” Arthur decided. He was probably going to miss his meeting later, but that paled in comparison to the thought of not having to deal with their infant daughter for the next several hours. Hours that were going to be spent in blissful sleep.


End file.
